


Why Do Fools Fall in Love

by KisstheRainWriting



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Avenger Reader (Marvel), F/F, Mostly Canon Compliant, and then trap us in the 80s and 90s for the laugh track, but no actual f/m content so it should be Fun for EveryGay, except with reader there all along, i am going to LEAVE NO CRUMBS with this 1950s setting, marvel x reader - Freeform, will involve f/m reader Hex plots as part of Wanda's messy matchmaking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 09:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisstheRainWriting/pseuds/KisstheRainWriting
Summary: Agatha comes face to face with an Avenger, but not the one she expects. The reveal’s even more delicious when she realizes one of Earth’s mightiest heroes has been cast as Vision’s unlucky-in-love secretary.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha Harkness/Reader, Agatha/Reader, Agnes (WandaVision)/Reader, agatha harkness x you
Comments: 7
Kudos: 75





	Why Do Fools Fall in Love

“As I was saying, dear, the Handy-Dandy Kitchen Helper peels, spices, cuts, rices, skins, and dices, all at the lowest prices!” Agatha had to shout over the gadget spinning out of control on Wanda’s kitchen table. She kept up that ten watt grin as the Handy-Dandy Kitchen Helper mangled a potato. “Now if I could just get it to flip Ralph over when he snores!”

Another day, another desaturated shenanigan. The Handy-Dandy kitchen thing had seemed a bit bottom of the barrel in terms of clever ideas, but Wanda Maximoff responded well to not-so-subtle homage, and Agatha was beginning to run out of gags. It felt like weeks, but the passage of time wasn’t right, wasn’t consistent. When she went down to her basement, everything would readjust, like pupils dilating at a sudden light. And then she could tell that only a day, tops, had passed since she’d first entered Wanda’s spell.

It was all very impressive, the way that time and space had warped around that tiny finger. She just needed to know _how_ , and she wasn’t above ripping off Lucille Ball to do it. Every time Wanda had to cast a spell and prevent a bite of chaos, every time that chipper veneer was chipped at, Agatha came a little closer to understanding the breadth and width of what was going on in Westview.

And so when a potato peel hit Wanda on the face, Agatha did not cackle, she didn’t snort, she just took a slim notebook from her purse and tapped a fountain pen against her tongue.

“I just have to sell ten of these, and I’ll be entered into a drawing for a nearly-new convertible. Can I put you down for three?”

The doorbell rang.

Wanda looked relieved. “Sorry, Agnes,” she said. Peeling the potato from her cheek, she stood to retreat to the living room. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

“Of course, hon!” With a rattle, Agatha switched off the Handy-Dandy Kitchen Helper. She called after Wanda, “Don’t forget to ask them if they could use America’s fastest-selling kitchen utensil!”

When the kitchen door swung shut, Agatha quickly followed, holding up a glass to the door and pressing her ear to it. She frowned; she didn’t remember picking up the cup, much less where it had come from. Maybe the nosy neighbor routine was getting _too_ instinctive. 

She heard the door open and Wanda’s surprised: “Oh, Y/N! How are you?”

The applause of the invisible audience echoed into the kitchen. Agatha adjusted the glass.

“Perfectly miserable, Wanda; the world is absolutely coming to an end, nothing has meaning anymore, and there’s no point in going on.” A voice rang out—a new voice—in one big dramatic sigh. A sympathetic _‘Aw!'_ rose up over the audience’s laughter. “Also Vision forgot some paperwork."

“Well, you know my husband,” Wanda replied, in the lull between laughs. “He’d forget his head if it weren’t screwed on right.”

The new voice said something Agatha couldn’t quite hear. She tutted. Then she straightened her dress, fixed her grin, pushed through the kitchen door—

And found herself face to face with an Avenger.

But not the one she’d been expecting.

_When did_ you _get here?_

Your name was on the tip of her tongue… Y/N something. One of the, ah, second-string ones. Middle of the roster. But you were cute—the approachable kind that was good for PR; she’d seen you plastered up on posters next to the A-listers. No magic in you, nothing like that. Maybe you were one of the radioactive bug ones. Or maybe you’d tripped into a vat of toxic waste. She vaguely remembered a newsbite of you… flipping a car? Turning invisible? Shooting sparks out of your ears? _Something_ anyway, something Super™ and too far afield for her to have cared very much at the time. 

And here you were, a sweet wool skirt swishing around your calves, a big sepia pout puckering your lips. Agatha barely suppressed a snort. 

“Oh, Agnes, this is Y/N. She just started as a secretary at Vision’s work.”

Your eyes flickered to Agatha. She had no idea what color they were, but they were wide, embarrassed. “Hi, nice to meet you.” You moved to shake her hand, then realized yours were full with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt; I'm just returning Vision’s briefcase.”

“Always nice to meet a working girl!” Agatha trilled, before adding in a stage-whisper. “I always say my husband Ralph’s a full-time job—the pay’s only so-so and the hours are long, but hey! At least I get weekends off.”

You laughed along with an audience you wouldn’t—or couldn’t—hear, but it was wry. “I’m starting to feel like dating’s a whole part-time job! I just got away from the worst blind date of my life, which makes this the _third_ worst blind date of my life this _week_.” You sighed again, and said to Wanda, “They don’t make them like you and Vision anymore.”

Wanda allowed herself an indulgent smile. “No, they certainly do not. My husband's one of a kind."

Agatha clocked your wistful grin, the frazzled pencil tucked behind your ear, the sensible Oxfords and lace-trimmed bobby socks that seemed just a little too young for you. Oh, this was _rich._ Wanda had cast you as the unlucky-in-love coworker. All trope and no bite.

If you ever woke up, Wanda’d have some ‘splainin to do.

Agatha blew a dismissive raspberry. "Don't worry about it, doll. You're still young! With that smile, you’re bound to find that special someone sooner or later. And excavating that cute figure of yours from that cardigan probably wouldn't hurt!”

For emphasis, she tugged at the sweater’s hemline. Fumbling the briefcase, you were pulled toward her until it was the only thing separating the pair of you, the slim case pressed against your chest. Agatha felt a genuine smile cut through Agnes’s: you looked a little embarrassed and... all-too-endearing. She looped her finger through the knit in one final tug, and you swallowed. _Earth’s mightiest heroes indeed._ “A beau would have to cut their way in!”

Footsteps on the stairs, then the twinkling sound of Vision’s transformation effect. When he reached the bottom banister, he greeted you both with a wave, hair and all. "Hello, ladies. Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh, just the end of all meaning," Wanda quipped. “And the first Woolworth’s exhumation.”

Vision smiled. "Is that all?"

"You forgot the Booker account, sir," you said, finally stepping back from Agatha, who shot you a final wink for the hell of it. There was something delicious about taunting you, getting a powered-down Super Pal flustered. You passed Vision the briefcase, then the exposition came, as cheerful and matter-of-fact as it always was: "You've got that big meeting tomorrow.”

"Ah, right, the Booker account!" Vision repeated. He patted the side of the briefcase, haltingly. "Which is…?"

You scoffed. "Only Computational Services’ biggest client, Vision!"

"Right, right, of course." He nodded. A pause. "Our biggest client for…?"

"For computational data analytics, silly!"

Vision gave you a tight smile, his brow still furrowed. "Right. Silly me."

Wanda shifted in her kitten heels. Her lips were pursed as she watched her husband. For a moment, Agatha wondered whether or not she should push this one. It was such a tight rope to walk, such a thin line between pushing Wanda and collapsing the entire spell. And Agatha wasn’t ready for that, not quite.

But before she could say anything, choose to diffuse the tension or pop it, you winced beside her. Blinking rapidly, you blurted out, “Say, Wanda? Can I ask you for a favor?”

Wanda relaxed. “Well, sure, dear. What can I help you with?” She grinned. “Unless it’s the world ending—I’m afraid that’s out of my pay grade.”

The laugh track again. Agatha internalized her grimace. Honestly. To be that powerful, and to demure for an invisible camera.

You wrung your hands—actually _wrung_ them. Sheesh. “My busy-body mother set me up on another date this weekend. We’re going to the drive-in, and I’m positively dreading it. Oh, Wanda, he’s a total bore!”

Instead of pointing out that Westview didn’t have a drive-in movie theater, because she’s sure one just conveniently sprung into existence, Agatha flashed you a sympathetic look. “That’s too bad, hon. If there’s anything I hate more than a bore, it’s a busy-body!” she said, the irony eliciting some unseen chuckles.

Wanda’s brow furrowed, faux-perplexed. “This might be obvious, dear, but can’t you just cancel?”

“And have my mother find out that I did? I’d never hear the end of it!” You fidgeted with your sleeves. “… Would you and Vision double with us? I’d feel so much better if I didn’t have to go it alone.” You shot Vision a nervous, apologetic grin. “If that’s not inappropriate, sir!”

Vision waved you off. “Don’t you worry about that,” he assured you. He glanced at Wanda, looking both amused and sympathetic. “What d’you say, sweetheart? Want to go steady?”

“You laugh, but it has been quite a while since we’ve been on a date ourselves, Mister. Not since…” Trailing off, Wanda faltered.

“Since the…” Vision began, but came up short.

“The time we—at the—”

“Yes, at the… hm.”

Wanda shook her head, and her face broke into a too-wide grin. “I guess it must have been so long that we’ve forgotten! That settles it then; we’d love to.”

You beamed. “You two are the greatest! You’re really saving my skin.”

Abruptly, you turned to the brunette and spoke over the audience reaction, completely cutting through any comedic timing. “What about you, Agnes? Do you want to come too?”

Agatha’s eyebrows lifted. “Me, dear?”

Wanda had also startled, her eyes flitting between the two of you.

That… wasn’t right. The premise had been neat as a bow, an easy, timeless cliché. The more experienced couple steers a pair of awkward soon-to-be-lovebirds through their first date. Rough at first, full of concession-stand related hijinks and the couple in the car next door getting too handsy, before the night turns saccharine. Holding hands, a timid kiss. All’s well that end’s well, roll the episode credits.

Whether or not Wanda was consciously doing anything, Agatha still wasn’t sure. But she was certain that Wanda hadn’t scripted this.

“The more the merrier!” you insisted. Agatha studied you more intently. There was a certain sharpness to your eyes, even though your demeanor remained cheerful. “You could bring your, uh, husband,” you added, the words still off-beat. Were you doing this on purpose? _Could_ you be doing this on purpose? There was something almost desperate to it, something on edge. 

It wasn’t much, admittedly, just a minor hitch in an otherwise note-for-note plotline. But still.

_Interesting._

“Oh, Ralph? He hasn’t been allowed back at the drive-in since he ate so many hotdogs, he hyperinflated the price of weenies.” Agatha said quickly, breaking the silence. The laugh track returned, but Wanda still looked a little thrown.

And any button that unsettled Wanda was exactly the button Agatha wanted to press.

Agatha threw her arm around your shoulder and laughed. “You know what? That sounds swell! We’ll make a party of it. I’ll bring snacks! Who likes malt balls?”

The transition music began to play, and Agatha leaned into the time jump, allowed Wanda’s magic to pull her forward, her arm still draped over your shoulder.

Maybe she had a few more gags in her after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure I was going to ever write for Marvel, it's been so long since I've done anything with the MCU, but they cast Kathryn Hahn as a sexy witch and gave me permission to play with corny sitcom tropes, so Hello Marvel fandom, please accept this humble vintage lesbian content
> 
> Please let me know if you’d like the rest of this series, which would involve: drive-in hijinks, the Reader getting bleep-censored for regaining the ability to cuss, free will angst, a struggle against family friendly content, me overusing the meta elements, Fietro bullshit, and Agatha lifting the Reader onto countertops 💜


End file.
